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Chapter Twenty Five

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Mirelle felt better by the time evening approached. The gryphons had gone off to hunt together. Mirelle and Enora both insisted that Revaramek take time to rest now if he planned to spend the night drinking. After a short argument, the dragon gave in and before long was dozing in the sun. Enora lit a fire so Mirelle could heat water for a bath. She filled the wooden tub, scented it with dried flowers and fruit, and relaxed in the hot water a while. When she was clean and dry Enora offered to let her wear some of her clothes. She selected a matching green blouse and skirt, each with gold hemming. The other woman’s clothing was hardly a perfect fit but Mirelle was happy to have fresh clothes just the same.

When she was dressed, Mirelle joined Enora in the immense main room of her house as Revaramek dozed outside. The expansive room had beautifully vaunted ceilings, and was large enough to easily accommodate Enora’s two gryphon companions. Sprigs of lavender and pine hung from the arched beams supporting the roof. Immense starblossom vines grew up trellises beneath windows. The bright blue and yellow flowers’ sweet aroma mingled with the fresh, herbals scents from the lavender and pine boughs, lending the inside of the home a very pleasant scent. A hearth built of unevenly hewn gray stones occupied one end of the room. Bookshelves overstuffed with tomes old and new ran along a wall. Comfortable chairs with plush cushions sat around tables hewn from pine. More cushions were scattered across the floor, some with colorful beadwork or ornate decorative feathers lining their edges.

“This place is as big inside as my tavern.” Mirelle sipped her wine from a pewter mug. It was red, and redolent with the flavors of cherries and tart berries, with a hint of oak. Delicious, if served improperly. She fought the urge to ask to have it served in the proper vessel for such a wine. “I guess it has to be to fit your friends comfortably.”

“Used to have a smaller place, years back.” Enora strolled just ahead of Mirelle, drinking her own wine from an even larger mug with a handle carved like a dragon. “But once Chir’raal and Kurekka accepted my invitation to stay, I thought I’d best not only build them a place to call home, but also make sure they’d always feel comfortable in my home, as well. When they first lived here, it wasn’t going to be permanent. I let them overwinter in my stable out back. Livestock didn’t much like it.” She took a drink, wiped her mouth and laughed. “They liked it even less when I had to let the gryphons eat them. Got a lot of snow that year, more than usual, and it was hard for Chir’raal to hunt enough food for all of us.”

Mirelle wandered to the bookshelf, running her fingers over the spines of a few books. “So only one of them can hunt?”

“At the time, yes.” Enora padded after her, blue skirt swishing around her bare feet. “Kurekka was hurt, you see. Took an arrow in the sky, and crashed. Broke a leg and a wing.”

Mirelle cringed. “That sounds horrible.”

“Oh, it was.” Enora’s voice softened, and a shadow passed across her face. She glanced away, scowling. “Chir’raal had to fight the rest of the slayers off, and then do what he could to drag Kurekka somewhere safe. Then he came and found me, and I did what I could to splint his bones. Poor thing had to limp the rest of the way here in agony.”

“So you’re…a healer?” Mirelle sipped her wine, swishing around in her mouth.

“Not professionally.” Enora drummed her fingers on the dragon handle of her mug. “But I learned how to make basic splints and stitch wounds and things like that as a child, while we traveled. I did what I could for him, and thankfully I had the means to hire those who could do better.”

Mirelle scrunched her face, glancing over her shoulder. “You traveled as a child? So did I.”

“Most of us did, I think.”

“What do you mean?” Mirelle moved to another bookshelf, examining a few of the books.

“The villages you call home didn’t just spring up from nowhere, dear.” Enora laughed, gesturing with her mug. “Someone had to settle them in the first place.”

“Suppose so.” Something tickled at Mirelle’s mind, like an itch she couldn’t quite scratch. “So they spent the winter here, while Kurekka healed?”

“Truth was, we didn’t think poor Kurekka was ever going to fly again. We were already friends at the time, thanks to Rev, but we only grew closer and closer over that winter. I offered to let them stay here as long as they needed, with…” She grimaced, circling a finger around the top of her mug. “With the expectation that Kurekka would be probably be stuck here unless he wanted to walk out. It was only by some otherworldly sort of miracle that he regained his flight after he’d healed. And by then, both of them thought of this place as home.”

“So they were already…” Mirelle nudged her boot against the wooden floor. Unlike Enora, she’d put her boots back on after her bath. “Together.”

Enora smirked at her. “You just can’t wrap your head around that, can you.”

Mirelle glanced away, her warm flush not brought on by the wine. “I can wrap my head around it just fine, thank you. It’s just…unusual.”

“And that makes it wrong?”

Mirelle whirled on the older woman, anger coloring her voice. “Not at all! Just because it takes me a little while to get used to something new doesn’t mean I think it’s wrong. I don’t. I’ve just never known anyone who…well, you know. It may strike me as odd, but by no means do I think it’s wrong! Any person, any…thinking creature should be allowed to love whoever they want. But that doesn’t mean I’m used to seeing it. So I wish you’d all just…let me adjust and stop assuming I’m looking down on you.”

Enora only gave her a little nod. “Very well. If it helps, those two love each other as deeply as I’ve ever known a person to love another.”

“And I’m glad for them! It’s just…new, that’s all.” Mirelle turned away again, shaking her head. “I certainly don’t have any problem with it. It’s just…well, when my friend Beka makes a new ale, something sour and tart that I’ve never quite had before, it takes me a while to get used to it, but soon I love it as much as every other beer she brews.”

“You’re not very good at analogies, are you?” Enora giggled and emptied her mug.

“They’re not my strong suit, no.” Mirelle managed a little laughter of her own. “For whatever its worth, I assure you if we were in my village and those gryphons were being hassled because of who they loved, I would be the first person there to defend them.”

“Would you then.” Enora’s tone was flat. She walked to a table covered in bottles and drinking vessels. She poured herself some more wine, and turned back towards Mirelle. “More?”

“Not yet, thank you.” Mirelle peered into her mug. She was less than halfway through her first glass. She wondered if Enora had given her more, or if the woman was just the sort who could drink everyone else under the table. No wonder Rev liked her. “And yes, I would. I’ll have you know, I hired a va’chaak as one of my bar staff.”

“Oh? Good for you!” Enora gave her a smile and a sarcastic fist pump. “I’m sure that makes up for decades of slaughter and conquest.”

“I…” Mirelle’s gaze fell, and she gave a sigh. “I didn’t mean…”

“Sorry.” Enora softened her tone, swirling her wine in her mug. “I’m not used to councilmembers who actually care. So a va’chaak, hmm?”

Mirelle worked her mug around her hands. “Yes. His name is Tavaat, he’s lovely. He’s one of my best friends, actually. I don’t know why you dislike the council so much, though I can take a few stabs in the dark. But part of the reason I took the position is to try and make things better! To help them improve their treatment of everyone. And I’m guessing it’s been a while since you last knew of them, but I’m not even the first woman on the council. Things are getting better, bit by bit, and all I want to do is to help my village grow in the right direction. Whatever you think they’ve done, surely it’s all in the past now. We can’t change it, but we can work towards a better future.”

“Spoken like a true politician!” Enora thrust her mug in the air, smirking. “Look, Mirelle. I believe you, and I believe you mean well. And maybe things will change. Or maybe ten years from now, you’ll be the one casting people out and ordering the slaughter of anything you fear.”

“Is that what happened? They cast you for something?”

Enora arched her brow, and sighed. “I really wish Rev was better at explaining things sometimes. I can’t blame him, though. He blocks a lot out. It’s just the way his mind works, the poor dear. Yes, Mirelle, your village council cast me out for something, a long, long time ago.”

Mirelle gulped and shuddered as an idea formed in her mind, dark and poisoned like the swamp Revaramek spoke of. “Who shot Kurekka down?”

“Now that,” Enora said, thrusting her mug in the air. “Is the sort of question you should be asking. Though it’s hardly an appropriate time to talk about that sort of thing.”

Mirelle set her mug on a shelf. “Why would they do that?”

“Also the sort of question you should be asking yourself, and your precious council.” Enora laughed, a bitter sound. “But really, Mirelle, now is not-”

“Were he and Chir’raal thieves or bandits? Was he attacking them? Was he out conquering things like Rev? What?”

Enora’s squeezed her mug, her knuckles standing out. Her expression darkened, and her voice dropped. “Watch what you say about Rev. That dragon’s been through more hell than he’s ever deserved, and…” She trailed off, and took a deep breath. Enora took a long drink of her wine, and fixed a glare that had Mirelle shrinking inside. “No. No, Kurekka was not a thief. If anything, they thought he was part of some kind of resistance.”

“Resistance?” Mirelle scrunched her face.

“Nevermind, Mirelle.”  

“No, I want to know.” Mirelle took a step towards her. “Resistance to what, exactly?”

“Do you? Fine, then.” Enora’s voice sharpened, her words snapped like cracking whips. “What’s the first thing you have to do when establishing a colony in a dangerous new land?”

“What?” Mirelle backed away again if being cornered.

“You pacify the locals.” Enora swung her mug, wine sloshed onto the floor. “They shot Kurekka down for the same reason they shot down countless other gryphons. For the same reason they slew the dragons. The same reason they butchered the va’chaak and urd’thin tribes. You can’t colonize a new land until you pacify the locals. It’s not a new story, Mirelle, it’s happened countless times before and will again.” She took a breath, her voice softening. “What did they tell you about Rev? About who caught him?”

Mirelle stared into her mug, her hands shaking. The wine rippled in her glass. “I…well…I thought they…you know, hired dragon slayers. From…” The western kingdom.

“So you think they’d hire an entire legion of dragonslayers just for one lonely, adolescent dragon?” Enora took an angry gulp of wine, waving her other hand. “Yes, they’d better hire a whole army in case he asks them to tell a story!”

“But…he’d conquered…”

“Did he?” Enora thrust her finger in the air, snarling. “He lives in his own head half the time, Mirelle! If anyone ever took his claims of conquest seriously, then more the fool them! But no, they didn’t hire dragonslayers for Rev. They didn’t hire dragon slayers at all! They were just…slayers. Of everything. Dragons, gryphons, va’chaak, urd’thin…anything in their way, and anything they thought was evil or dangerous to their people. They needed a home, Mirelle, so they took one…” She took a breath, and gave a long sigh. “And then they secured it with blood.”

Spoiler alert, Mirelle, but your people turn out to be the bad guys!

Asterbury’s voice echoed in her head, and Mirelle took a few wobbly steps back. She leaned up against another bookshelf. “That doesn’t make sense. I’ve never heard anything about that. I mean…sure, I knew from time to time our guards had to kill va’chaak raiders or urd’thin bandits, but…nothing like that.”

“So you’re saying they’ve covered up their history of genocide over the last few generations?” Enora gasped and pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m shocked!”

Mirelle stomped her boot against the wooden floor. “You don’t have to be damn flippant about it!”

Enora stared for a long moment before her expression softened. “No. I don’t. I’m sorry, I’m just…bitter. And…I wasn’t expecting to get into this. Especially not with a councilwoman. I did try to tell you I didn’t want to talk about it right now, but you kept pushing me.”

“Bad habit of mine.” Mirelle set her mug aside. She ran her hands down her face, groaning into her palms. “I’ve never heard any of this…if it’s even true. My parents never even…”

“How young were you when you first arrived?”

“A little girl.” She shook her head, uncertain. “Three, or four, maybe.”

“Then why would they have ever brought it up? They’d want you to be feel happy and secure in your new home, just like everyone else. Hell.” She set her mug down, and folded her arms. “It’s entirely possible they never knew. I never knew, growing up. Not until they came for Rev. I figured it out then, pieced bits of it together myself, after they exiled me, and I talked with others.”

Mirelle shivered, rubbing her arms. “You make it sound as though the village has some grand army, but we don’t have anything of the sort. We’ve plenty of guards, but…”

“They’d have all dispersed across at least half dozen villages over time. Moving to secure new land, to pacify the area, to slay the beasts that threaten their new settlements…” Enora turned and stared through a window. The sun was setting in the distance, bathing the vale in its golden light. “It started a long time ago, when the village was new. Your village, on the hill, it was their first.  By the time it was Rev under their blades, their task was nearly finished, I think. Back then, I was younger than you are now, and most of the slayers were much older. Many of them were slain themselves in later years by beasts with long memories and lost loved ones. Others founded the various village councils, or what have you. Now that things have been peaceful for…” She stared at the back of her hand as if counting the wrinkles. “Decades…maybe longer…I’m sure it’s not the sort of story they’d want told about their villages. Besides, once they had Rev under their sway, they had but to wait till he was grown, and then they’d have a weapon awaiting their commands, ready to be wielded against any other beasts who threaten them. With him waiting in the wings, perhaps they just didn’t need their beast slayers as much anymore.”

Mirelle gazed at some of the books on the shelf she leaned against. Some had colorful covers and spines with bright gold letterings. Others were bound in aged leather. “You’ll…forgive me if I’m not sure how much I believe you.”

“Of course.” Enora picked up her mug again, took a drink. “But if you’re as interested in change for the better as you say…” She shrugged. “Well, you’re in the rare position to look into my claims, and if you find them true, to do something about it.”

Mirelle glanced at Enora, her eyes widening. Maybe that was what Revaramek meant when he said his friends would want something only a council member could provide. What did Enora want? Citizenship for herself? For the gryphons? A truce offered to the rest of marshland’s many creatures, long driven beyond Rev’s domain? Whatever it was, she’d probably pushed Enora far enough. 

“I’d certainly try. I think…attitudes in the village are already changing.” She traced her fingers across a few books. “We have urd’thin and va’chaak who visit us, trade with us. People have come to recognize Rev as the dragon of the marsh. Sure, they were scared when I brought him into town, but once they calmed down, they…well, some of them just accepted him. Like my friends. I guess he’s been out there, in that marsh for so long, he’s just…part of us, now.”

Enora smiled, sunlight dancing in her eyes as it streamed through the window. “Then maybe things are changing, and I’m the fool still clinging to the past. I must admit, I like the sound of him being accepted. Even if he must have caused so much trouble in that town.”

“You’ve no idea.” Mirelle laughed, shaking her head. “We’ve this one knight, Elrind.”

“Knight.” Enora murmured, then shook her head, smiling. “Such an old term, still passed down from such a faraway land.” She glanced at Mirelle, bowing her head. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Mirelle tilted her head. “It’s alright. So, anyway, Elrind is the commander of one of the guard squads, protecting a gate and some of the town’s districts. How he attained the position, I shall never know. His heart is in the right place, but the man’s incompetence can only be measured in an astrological sense. He’s a whole universe of bad at his job. And he’s a real stickler for the old ways. Full armor he can hardly move in. And he wears this horrible helmet that he can’t see or hear through. He’s like a remnant from another time, hardly any of our guards wear that sort of thing. And he’s chivalrous to an obnoxious fault.” She waved her hand, giggling. “Chastises his men for using bad language, substitutes nonsense words instead. I swear to you, he’s like a character cast out of some silly children’s story.”

A sudden shiver rattled Mirelle to her core. She squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose. Why that shook her so, she wasn’t sure. Asterbury was getting to her.

“He sounds horrid.” Enora laughed and sipped her wine. “Certainly wasn’t there when I lived in that village. I can see why you can’t understand how he got his job. Are you alright? You’ve gone a bit pale.”

“Just tired, is all.” What else was she supposed to say? Enora, have you ever had the feeling you’re trapped in a story cobbled together from other stories? She forced a smile. “My guess is that he must be descended from someone of wealth or importance.”

“Perhaps so.” Enora emptied her mug and browsed her selection of bottles. “Perhaps they’ve just put someone so incompetent in charge to better disguise the horrible things they once did. You see a man like that bumbling about, you’d hardly think his people competent enough to defend a village, much less eliminate the local populace of so-called monsters. Or maybe it’s a guise, so they still seem weaker than they are.”

Mirelle rubbed her forehead. “That’s…awfully cold calculation. I think I’d rather he’s just related to some old councilman. I suppose now that I’m on the council, I’ve access to the records, but I’ve got better things to do with my time than snoop about in the tea kettle’s files.”

Enora blinked. “The tea kettle?”

When Mirelle realized what she’d said, she burst out laughing. Though it wasn’t half that funny the first time Rev said it, she needed the laughter after the turns their conversation had taken. She picked up her mug again, waving off Enora’s questioning look until she got her giggles under control. She downed the last of her wine, and then joined Enora for more.

“The tea kettle.” Mirelle handed her mug to the other woman. “It’s what Revaramek calls Knight Commander Elrind.”

Enora poured wine into the mug, arching a brow. “Why?”

Mirelle shook her head, still smiling. “I’ve no idea. I suppose because the way he’s all done up in metal reminds Rev of a tea…well, kettle.” She took the mug back, snorting. “I was trying to avoid that rhyme but it just snuck in there. Even if I’ve no idea how Revaramek even knows what a tea kettle is.”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Enora smiled. She took a sip of wine, then gazed out the window at the sleeping dragon in the distance. “I used to bring one when I’d visit him. I’d make tea for us, and bring scones and things. And read him stories.” She swallowed hard, blinking a few times and glanced away. “I suppose it all sounds quite childish, now.”

“No.” Mirelle rolled her mug back and forth between her hands. “It sounds…quite nice, actually. You know, for a while, I just thought he used to…I don’t know, kidnap maidens, and bring them out there to make them…you know. Do things for him. I’m actually increasingly glad to learn there’s more to him than that.”

Enora stiffened, and flashed Mirelle an angry glare. An old bruise shone in her suddenly-wet eyes. “Know one thing, Councilwoman. Revaramek never made anyone do anything of the sort for him. He may not be the perfect gentlemen or…well, any kind of gentlemen, but in his own way, he’s always been gentle. Any carnal acts anyone ever did with the dragon, I assure you they did of their own free will, just as I did. Mostly all we did at first was keep him company, tell him stories, help him perfect his ability to speak our tongue.” She swallowed again and wiped her eyes, sighing. “Enough of that. So, this…tea kettle?”

Mirelle took a long drink of wine. By now the heat of it had worked its way into her blood, warming her body. Its warmth showed itself in her cheeks. She suddenly had a thousand more questions to ask Enora, and all of them felt either wildly inappropriate or far too personal. If the woman didn’t want to talk any more of her time with Revaramek, Mirelle could wait until a better time. Just as she could wait to find out just what happened to get Enora banished.

They still had to broach the reason they’d come in the first place. Revaramek had hinted about needing their help, but as much as Mirelle felt they needed a sense of urgency, she knew Revaramek needed to heal before he could fight again, anyway. She’d just have to hope that not only would the gryphons agree to help them, but that there was still a village to save by the time the dragon was in fighting condition again.

“Yes, the tea kettle.” Mirelle found herself giggling at the name again. “You mentioned Revaramek and trouble, and as much as those two things may always go hand in hand, he seems to have developed a special affinity for harassing the knight commander. He’s rolled him over into a soggy ditch, he’s toppled him and his men over like dominoes, and who knows what he’ll do next. Not to mention all the damages he’s accrued in town and had charged to my name.” 

Enora shared her laughter as she crossed the room to one of the windows. She pressed her forehead to the glass, staring at the dragon sprawled in the fading sun. “Yes, that’s our Rev, alright.” She turned around and leaned her back to the wall. “So you own a tavern?”

“Yes.” Mirelle held her mug up as if toasting her bar. “The Cathedral. It’s probably the largest tavern in town, now. We serve drinks of all types, and wonderful food, too.”

“And you mentioned something about brewing the ales in that horrible analogy, earlier?”

Mirelle chuckled, tapping her fingers against her mug. “I enjoy brewing, yes. My friend Beka does most of it. She’s my head brewer, and my head chef. But I collaborate with her often, and dabble in it myself. My ales are good, if I say so myself, but Beka’s are spectacular.”

Enora smiled, nodding. She settled into one the padded chairs, and gestured for Mirelle to do the same. “Something you two have always enjoyed?”

“Something like that, yes. My parents started the tavern, and I learned the brewing trade from them, along with everything else I know, including how to try and treat everyone equally. Beka was a friend of mine, growing up.” Mirelle sank into a chair with a sigh, glad to rest her legs a little while.

“How’d you two meet, then?”

Mirelle sipped her wine. “Beka lost her father when she was young, and her mother worked all the time to support them. Her mother worked for mine, for a time, so Beka she took to spending her days with me. She learned a lot of what I learned and turned out to be a natural when it came to cooking and brewing.”

“So she has quite the talent for it.” Enora ran her thumb against the dragon’s head on her mug.

“She does. It’s funny, I’ve a better palate than her when it comes to identifying flavors, and a better knowledge of how much of what ingredient should be added when, and so on. But she far surpasses me on instinct. I can tell her what I taste, and what I’m not tasting, and she knows instinctively what to add, or how to change the recipe.” Mirelle gave her head a shake, smirking. “Sometimes it baffles me. I could sit and study the numbers and eventually come to understand I’d added too much heather to the wort, and that I needed to reduce it by at least a quarter…but Beka?” She waved her hand. “She’ll just look at it, smell it, and toss in what she thinks is right. And guess what? It is right.”

“Some people just…” Enora shrugged. “Have it. I’ve a hand for gardening, myself, and an eye for basic engineering.”

“Ah! I saw your garden from above, when we were landing.” Mirelle worked her fingers against the soft, well-worn arm of the beige chair. “Looked very well cared for. Do you get most of your food that way?”

“A lot of it, yes. Chir’raal and Kurreka keep me stocked with fresh meat and I’ve the garden for fruits and vegetables. I also have some goats and things for milk and so on. Preserve lots of things for winter.” She leaned back into her chair, closing her eyes. “Now and then the gryphons fly me into town and I visit markets.”

“Oh?” Mirelle gazed around the room, setting her mug on an end table. “Which village?”

“None that you’d know, I suspect. Far from here. North, northwest.” She glanced away, then smiled. “It’s ironic you own a tavern, I’ve a few I’ve invested in myself.”

“Really?” Mirelle leaned forward again, trying to place the villages she mentioned. “So you had some funds stashed at least, before you were…” She gestured with her hand, unsure of the best term to use. “So were you an engineer?”

“No.” Enora chuckled, smiling, her eyes still closed. “Worked in a bookstore. Near the square. Used to go out in a blue wagon to the other villages.”

“Oh!” Mirelle picked up her mug and took a drink. “I think that’s still there. Well…one like it, anyway.”

“One like it.” Enora chuckled. “I didn’t make much that way. No, when I was banished, Rev made sure I’d be taken care of. He gave me all the treasure he’d collected to make sure I’d never want for anything. I tried to refuse it but…well, when you end up in a wagon filled with valuables, what are you going to do, dump them into the marsh?”

Mirelle’s jaw dropped. So Revaramek really did have a hoard? Or, at least he once did. She rubbed her forehead, Such an act of generosity would have seemed beyond the scope of the dragon’s comprehension when she’d first met him, but only a few days later and…hell, he’d damn near killed himself just trying to save her, should she really be surprised?

“That’s…actually quite touching.”

Enora’s smile grew. “You don’t know the half of it, but I don’t know you well enough to part with the whole story just yet. You can ask him, but he’s probably tried to forget most of it.”

Mirelle chewed her lip. She felt as if she suddenly had a few more pieces of a puzzle she no longer wished to complete. “So, you took his treasure and…bought taverns?”

“Invested in.” Enora cracked her eyes open to gleaming slits. “Helped finance them. I get a yearly return upon my investments even these days. Sometimes I visit them for a few days, tell stories, talk about my life with a dragon, play the lute.”

“You play the lute?” Mirelle smiled back at her. “If I can get things straightened out for you, you should come and play my tavern sometime.”

“While I’ve no idea if you’re being honest or not, I would enjoy that immensely, I think.” She lifted a hand, and moved it back and forth in the air, shifting her fingers as if fretting strings on the neck of a lute. “Not that I play well, mind you. I can’t be responsible if I drive your customers away.”

Mirelle giggled. “I assure you, we’ve had worse performances. I once had a man show up to give a one person play so drunk, he slurred half his lines and fell off the stage, cracked his head on the floor and had to be rushed to the physician.”

Enora’s hands froze in the air. She giggled, and returned to strumming her unseen instrument. “Yes, I do believe I could beat that, at least.”

Mirelle twisted, gesturing to the bookshelves. “So, all these books. Are they from your store?”

“Some of them.” Enora craned her neck, peering at the tomes. “A lot of them I’ve collected on my travels. After your council banished me, I spent a lot of time traveling the world. Built this place with some of the funds Rev gave me. At first it was just a place to rest my head…and my heart. The gryphons and I, and a few other assorted companions spent more than a few years wandering this great marsh we call home, and the lands beyond.”

Mirelle tensed. She knew she shouldn’t ask, and yet, she couldn’t stop herself. “Have you ever been to Gorpalorp?”

Enora scrunched her face. “Where on earth is that? It sounds made up.”

“It’s…to the west, I think. The…the kingdom to the west.”

Enora quirked her brow. “Is that what they call that place these days?”

Mirelle leaned forward. “You’ve been there, then?”

“No, my dear.” Enora leaned forward as if to match Mirelle. “No one has.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I was a girl, I always heard that was where they came from. The slayers. The settlers who formed our village, everyone That we’d…fled…from a great kingdom to the west.” Enora lowered her voice. “But it’s all a lie, and they don’t even know it. There is no kingdom to the west.”

Mirelle sank back in her chair, running a hand down her face. “That’s just what he said.”

“Who?”

Mirelle opened her mouth to reply, but the word froze in her throat. Asterbury. Something else itched in her mind, some idea she couldn’t quite grasp no matter how hard she struggled for it. “Oh…no one of importance. Hey, what was it you said about Kurekka’s wing? How did it heal, again? Something about a miracle?”

Enora gave a laugh, waving her hand. “Oh, now that’s a story you’d never believe. If you’re that curious about the western lands, I did collect some of those books from a few little villages out that way.”

Mirelle rose up from her and walked to the bookshelves, her mind racing. It couldn’t really have been him, could it? Surely she just meant miracle in the more traditional sense. Mirelle scowled. What the hell was traditional about a miracle? What if it was Asterbury? Gods, what if Enora and the gryphons were his allies and Rev didn’t know it? Mirelle was starting to wish she’d never joined the council and had stayed out of all this craziness. Of course, if she was right about Asterbury’s plans, the craziness would have come to her sooner or later.

As she inspected the books on the shelves, she tried to keep herself calm. Letting her likely unfounded fears get the best of her wasn’t going to do her any good. She focused on the books, running her hand over the spines. Some titles sounded familiar. She spotted one novel she’d read and loved, another she’d hated. There were tomes about cooking and picture books for children. There was one filled with tales of mythical beasts and the heroes that slew them. Another seemed to be a story about a young dragon. That one made her smile, and she wondered if Enora had ever read that to Revaramek.

She wandered from shelf to shelf, not really sure what she was looking for. Until she stumbled upon a brown leather tome with unfamiliar sigils on the side of it in faded silver letting. She eased it free, glanced at the cover. It had a title, but was also written in the strange sigils. Mirelle carefully opened the book, flipped through the old vellum. Page after page of unfamiliar writing. Whatever language it was in, Mirelle had never seen it. She glanced at Enora, who simply smiled and shrugged.

She put the book back, and selected another one. Flipping through it, she found it inked in the same, unreadable language. She put it back and drew another. It contained more words she could not read, this time in yet another strange language, with letters sharp and jagged as though made by claw tips. She flipped through it, saw a few drawings. One had a group of urd’thin in a desert, looked like parents and children huddled around a fire. Another had depicted a swamp with ancient trees and strange birds. Each had captions in the language she’d never glimpsed before.

“What…” Mirelle’s throat went dry. She worked her tongue against her teeth, and swallowed a few times as she eased the book back. “What language are these in? Where did these come from?”

Enora laughed, a long sound somewhere between musical happiness and bewildered cackling. “I’ve no idea. All I know is, we aren’t the only ones to find ourselves in this place.”